


Falcon

by aBarlowRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, One Word Prompts, Picnic, Short, Short One Shot, falcon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 01:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aBarlowRose/pseuds/aBarlowRose
Summary: Sherlock and John ignore each other all the way to the southern coast.





	Falcon

When Sherlock tells John they will be picnicking in the country, John mumbles something about his lungs being accustomed to the soot and smog of London.  Sherlock ignores him.  

When Sherlock grabs the basket John is obliged to pack and walks it downstairs, depositing it in the back of the waiting cab, John follows angrily, stuffing spoons into the top and closing it with a vicious look.  Sherlock ignores him.

When Sherlock slides into the cab, he reaches out to lay a hand on John’s thigh.  Though the lines contract around his eyes, John ignores him.

When Sherlock stops the cab on the edge of a bluff in the middle of nowhere, he steps out, points to a car park barely visible across the fields and hills, and tells the cabbie to wait there.  The cabbie begins to protest, but Sherlock slips him some bills.  He looks up at John, who stands at the rear of the cab holding the basket.  John ignores him.

When John walks to the edge of the bluff, squinting into the sun and wind that tousles his hair, Sherlock holds his breath, watching John’s feet come to rest at the lip of the sheer drop.  He watches the basket sway slightly in the gusting air.  He watches the tilt of John’s head as he looks around him.  He watches John watch a falcon coasting on the updrafts and observes the precise moment the tension leaves John’s shoulders.  

When John hears footsteps approach, he ignores them. 

When John detects the crisp wind fall from his back, he ignores it.

When John feels the pull of familiar hands on his waist, he ignores it.

But when Sherlock feels John breathing beneath his hands, relaxed, content, composed, he cannot ignore it.  And John cannot ignore the light, warm breath on his ear; or the hand that removes the basket from his grasp and sets it beside them; or the heat of a kiss pressed into his hair, and he turns.  

But the falcon above ignores them.

 

_Prequel to[Picnic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615097)._

**Author's Note:**

> Used to write on Tumblr but have been out of practice for a while. Moving old stuff over here. Tagging will improve as we go. 
> 
> Please comment any tw/cw tags you'd like to see applied.


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